


This is our day

by shipintheisland



Series: Drive to Survive 2020 season [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Austrian Grand Prix 2020, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Interview, at least how i imagine it, mentions and light description of a crash, not the real one but how it could be, positivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 14:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21078692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipintheisland/pseuds/shipintheisland
Summary: "With the bright red N on her black polo shirt, the journalist was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to what should be an all too easy question.“What will you remember the most from this year?”What would he remember the most from the 2020 season? What memory will he keep in his mind for the next years? What moment made it all worth it in the end?"In the preparations for the next season of the Drive to Survive documentary, Christian Horner is asked to share his view on the Austrian Grand Prix 2020, a week that ended up surprisingly well.





	This is our day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome !  
This is the Austrian GP like nobody was expecting it, because I want I need I beg for Max to win a race soon and I can't wait anymore.  
This is all light hearted and positive, with a happy ending.  
There is a mention and description of the aftermath of a crash, it's light and only describe what the person concerned is feeling at the moment, but if you're not fine with it proceed with caution.
> 
> As for everyone here, I do not own anything, I don't claim money on this writing, don't repost  
Anyway, hope you will like it !  
And a huge thank you to my beta reader, my little sister <3

The room seemed darker than Christian could remember from last year, with the lights directed to him giving that private atmosphere to the moment. The small and slightly uncomfortable chair he was sitting on made the whole scene more similar to a police interrogation than an actual interview. The empty walls and the few seconds of silence didn’t help, and he felt a shiver running down his body as goose bumps made their way on his upper arms. _He should have taken a jacket with him._

With the bright red N on her black polo shirt, the journalist was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer to what should be an all too easy question.

“What will you remember the most from this year?”

What would he remember the most from the 2020 season? What memory will he keep in his mind for the next years? What moment made it all worth it in the end?

A smile crept up on his face, he couldn’t stop himself. Without a second thought on it, he begun to narrate that race week that changed the whole course of the year for the Red Bull team.

“The Austrian Grand Prix.”

* * *

_Are you ok?_

The car was fuming as Max was starting to recover from the crash, a strange feeling of fog in his mind obscuring his thoughts. His ears were ringing from the shock and his eyes were having a hard time focusing on his surroundings. He slowly moved his fingers and toes, relief taking over his mind when he came to the conclusion that he might be, indeed, fine.

He screwed up. Badly. In the turn 3, his suspensions failed and he nearly collided in the Alfa Romeo’s car warming its tyres at a much slower pace than what he understood from his strategist.

Panic flooded him at lightning speed as he tried to keep control of his car and avoid his fellow driver and was only able to quickly pull his steering wheel on the left, nearly touching the back of the other driver. As his own tyres touched the grass, he could feel his grip loosening and he had no control of his path anymore. What happened after was a mystery, he could only get a hold on the fact that, clearly, he ended up on the wall.

The car must have been a mess. Christian would kill him on spot if he could, he knew it.

_Max, are you ok?_

Ears still singing a painfully high note, he squinted his eyes a little more, not quite processing the view in front of him. He had to get out of the car, that was the procedure. Get out of the car, exit the track, talk to the medical team, head back to the garage. His limbs felt heavy, and the Dutch driver suddenly understood that part of his discomfort came from the simple fact that he was hanging upside down, the lion on his helmet slightly scratching the floor on each movement.

Noises made their way to his brain, similar to footsteps and people talking. He couldn’t process the meaning of the speaking nor could he recognize the voices. Max felt dizzy, terribly dizzy, and a sudden wave of nausea hit him.

_Max please, say something!_

Hands grabbed his arms, getting the seatbelt out of the way as he felt his heart pounding quicker, and his body fell quickly from the sudden lack of restraining.

He felt himself being dragged further away from the car, and his eyes caught the sight of a blurry red dot moving on his right.

As soon as the young driver was out and lying on the ground, someone removed his helmet and a fresh wind hit his face like a violent snap. He heard people calling his name, asking how he was feeling, telling him to try and get up… Eyes now wide open, he finally kept up with his surroundings. Six men and women dressed with the medical overall were moving around him, one of them holding his arm and looking at his face, probably checking for his awareness. Turning his head slowly, a headache crawling in his skull, he noticed that the previous red blurriness was indeed a marshal agitating a red flag on the side of the track. A voice, close to his ears, stopped him in his thoughts:

“Can you get up?”

Looking in the eyes of the man above him, Max silently nodded, not sure if he could really do it.

His whole body was cramped up from the crash as he oh so slowly dragged his feet under him, pushing on his arms and legs to stand up, with the help of a few hands pulling him up.

The dizziness came back when he stood, his heart racing in his chest and a shiver run down his spine. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, the two medics next to him helping him not to fall. Ears still buzzing, he caught the sound of hands clapping for afar.

Max turned around, trying to see his car, a weird feeling of anxiousness growing in his stomach. Vehicle upside down, the front was exploded, chunks scattered everywhere around the track. Smoke was still escaping the back. The whole picture was an absolute mess, and he felt like throwing up for good. _He could have died here._

Without a word, he sighed heavily, having the impression that he had hold his breath the whole time.

_There went his race weekend…_

* * *

“At first, I was pissed. Really pissed. He had a good pace, we knew the car would follow for qualifying and that he would be able to score well on the grid.”

The journalist sitting in front of him tilted her head on her right, shifting her eyebrows, silently offering some support.

Christian closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, the memory of the crash flashing before his eyelids. He remembered his angriness on the moment, then worry, and finally the horrible feeling of guiltiness. Seeing Max laid down on the ground, barely capable of getting on his feet to walk away from the track, his eyes not really focusing on anything around him, clearly not understanding what had just happened to him… Christian shook his head lightly, erasing the thoughts that got his mind at that moment.

“That Verstappen was not hurt was a miracle. But he had to miss qualifications on the afternoon to stay at the hospital.”

When Max got out of his shaken and silent state on his way to the hospital, he started claiming his well-being, insisting on the fact that, yes, he was fine and, no, he clearly didn’t want to miss his chance for a pole position.

“He called me, telling me that he was ready to come back, but the car was trashed and there was no way that we could have repaired it in only a few hours, let alone the fact that in no way Max was in conditions to drive safely.”

Christian rolled his eyes and a little laugh escaped him at the thought of Max Verstappen, rising star of the Formula 1 championship, youngest winner of the sport, sitting on a hospital bed and whining on the phone like a child who was denied of his favourite toy. The same thought must have crossed the woman’s mind too as she smiled cheekily for a second.

“Qualifications had to go without him, which put a lot of pressure on Albon.”

* * *

“Ah crap…”

Alex shook his hand a little, cursing himself for the sharp pain on his finger. He spent his lunch time alone, alternating between picking on his nails and glaring at his plate, he was not hungry anyway. Another look at his phone, and still no answer from his teammate.

He was far behind Max during the third practice when the crash happened. Red flag was waved at every corner of the track, and when arriving near his garage in the pit lane, he understood immediately that something was wrong.

“Verstappen crashed, it seems bad.”

“The car is destroyed, no way he’ll participate to the qualis!”

“He didn’t answer on the radio, maybe he was knocked out?”

As soon as he parked on his spot, he jumped out and run his way to his team principal, taking off his helmet in the process, heart pounding in his ears and worry clouding his mind. He didn’t have the time to think of something to say that his eyes caught one of the screens, showing his Dutch teammate poorly trying to get up, with a few medics gathered around him to steady his weak body.

Alex gulped, his hand not carrying his helmet unconsciously making its way to cover his mouth, as his friend was dragged in the safety car that took him to the medical aisle of the paddock. Around him, everyone was silent, only disturbed by the roaring of the last cars coming back in the pits. A hand landed on his shoulder, making him turn around to look at Christian. His boss was holding his phone close to his ear, while whispering a small “He doesn’t seem hurt, just shocked”. Alex nodded a little and the older man gave him a reassuring smile, letting go of his arm and going back to talking to who he supposed was one of the medics.

He had then sent Max a message, asking him to call back when he could. It was three hours ago.

The Thai driver got up from his seat, giving a last defeating look to his lunch before throwing it in the trash, empty stomach feeling heavy in his abdomen. The walk back to his motorhome went fast, worried eyes falling on him every time he would cross someone’s path. He even noticed Lando and George next to the Renault garage, probably trying to catch a certain Australian’s attention and check up on him. _Max’ best friend,_ Alex thought,_ of course, he must be very worried._

After entering his room, he locked the door and landed face first on the small couch with a groan. There he was, only Red Bull driver out, his friend and teammate at the hospital in an unknown state, all the hopes of his team upon him… And he couldn’t stop the stress from growing inside of him.

He laid there for a long moment, trying to exhale the anxiousness until he was almost late for Q1.

After getting changed in his driver’s attires, he walked quickly to the garage, head down so no one would see his uneasiness and nearly colliding in a few people. He felt so out of it that he _almost_ forgot to excuse himself to one of them. Atmosphere there was heavy, Alex felt like suffocating with the solemn faces of the mechanics and strategists gathered next to his car, but the small smile on Horner’s lips and the little thumbs up he gave to the driver released part of the tension.

Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, Alex now had only one thought in his mind: getting a good place in qualification. He put on his helmet and gloves, climbed in his car and signalled over the radio that he was ready to start.

A few seconds before the signal telling him to go, he heard the voice of his strategist resonating in his helmet, making him crack a sided smile.

“Max said he would kick your butt if you don’t qualify well.”

So he did. He hoped his P5 would make his friend feel a little better.

* * *

“I took Alex to the hospital after qualifications, to check up on Max.”

Upon arriving in the garage after his last lap, the Red Bull driver’s face was a perfect mix of excitement and worry. For the next minutes, every word that got out of his mouth was either to praise himself and the team for the good performance or to ask if his teammate was feeling better. At one point, sensing a headache growing in his head from the Thai’s agitation, Christian grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the garage in the direction of his car outside, ignoring the younger boy’s protests. _You are exhausting, let’s go see him so you’ll stop._

A small chuckle escaped his mouth, wrinkles around his eyes making their way as he let a smile grow on his lips.

“It was even worse when I got them together!”

Having stayed half the day laid down on a hospital bed, Max was now completely restless. On the moment the two boys were reunited, they wouldn’t stop talking, arms moving in every way possible, and the team’s principal couldn’t follow their animated discussion for more than a few seconds.

“We had to wait for a doctor to check Max’ state before we could all go back to the hotel. Fortunately, the boys calmed down after some time and they sat down on the bed, talking about the race for the next day.”

He could remember the Dutch driver’s face when he discovered that rain was planned for the Sunday. Ecstatic was an understatement, and he made sure that his friend was excited for that too, giving him a full list of advices. Not being completely at ease about driving in wet conditions, Alex listened carefully and nodded at every tip thrown at him.

Christian was not sure his two young drivers could participate in the race, but Max gave him a full speech on why he should let him drive the car and how a good night of sleep would be enough for him to be back in his initial state. That, and the fact that he was one of the best drivers under heavy rain, _if not the best nowadays._

He gave up. The mechanics had assured him the car would be ready on Sunday morning, and he understood the young pilot’s need to go back on the track. He was almost certain he even heard him say he wanted to make it up to the team for the crash, but he didn’t address it. If there was no medical objection to his participation to the race, there was no way he would be able to stop Max Verstappen from driving. Not that he would want that anyway.

* * *

Max waved his hand, throwing a quick good luck to his friend while heading back to the Red Bull garage, where he would start the race. Daniel faked a shocked face, a hand above his chest, mouth forming an “o”.

“Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it, mate! And please don’t crash again!”

The Dutch boy laughed out loud, and continued his path, staying as close to the walls as possible in order to avoid the rain.

He pushed the door with his shoulder, his hands still gripping his phone and water bottle, and he saluted the few members of the racing team he hadn’t seen yet. He was having a good day.

After calling his mother for the fifth time in two days (the crash scared her, and him but he would never admit it), he had slept like a baby for nine full hours and woke up feeling like winning the day, race included if he could.

Good breakfast, good training, good meeting with the team, good lunch, good rain on the track. Everything was perfect, and no race start on the pit lane would stop his happy behaviour.

A proud smile was stuck on his face, and after a few words with his strategist, he went to the back of the garage, taking out his balaclava and helmet from the shelf.

“Hey!”

He jumped a little at the sudden interruption of his train of thoughts, recognising his teammate’s voice almost immediately, then turning on his heels to face him.

“Alex, are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, ready! It’s all good, really, all fine, eh eh…”

The tallest boy was already wearing the white hood on his head, but his contorted smile and wide opened eyes gave no doubt on his mental state. It made Max lift his left eyebrow in a sceptical way.

Some mechanic on his left side waved at their direction, implying Alex had to leave for the grid now. Max put his hand on his friend’s arm and tried his hardest to sound reassuring.

“It will be fine, like I told you yesterday. Trust the car, trust yourself, don’t panic if you go aquaplaning and we will cross the finish lane in no time!”

A beaming smile still plastered on his head, he was glad to see Alex relaxing a bit. He put his helmet on and told him, more assured:

“Thank you, Max. And please, don’t crash again, it was a mess on the track after that.”

They burst into laughter, and Alex left the garage with a few other mechanics. Max equipped himself completely, the whole garage making him promise to be careful. _He had the impression that he had given that promise so many time already._

The Dutchman climbed on his vehicle and in the seat, shifting and adjusting himself into a more comfortable position.

He felt like hours went by until he got the signal that the race would start soon. His focus was on it completely, his lips forming a thin line as his heart pounded hard in his chest, threatening to escape. He took a deep breath, eyes on the man who would give him the go. He was ready.

* * *

“If I had to give a word to describe the race, I would say it was a mess.”

The Red Bull’s principal had to restrain himself from adding “for everyone but us”, no need to rub salt in their rivals’ wounds. _Even if Mattia didn’t stop himself when he was the lucky one._

Oh, what a race it was! First turn, and already a crash in the midfield. Ocon out, three others on their way to the pits. Max didn’t even have to try and he already won 4 places, even with his delayed start. The next 36 laps went calmly, only getting exciting in the Red Bull garage by the defensive style of their Thai driver and a few easy overtakes of the Dutch one. _He really was good in wet conditions._ The boys pitted, setting new tyres and continued to make the show for their team with their driving skills.

“The boys did an amazing job on the track, even if it could have gone very wrong. And it did for some.”

That was an understatement, really. Lap 37, Leclerc and Hamilton were leading the race by far, followed by a few seconds by their respective teammates. Albon was keeping a good pace in P6, getting closer to Sainz at every lap, and Verstappen… Christian smiled at the thought and shook his head discreetly, still incredulous by the young man’s performance. From the pit lane and with an impeccable driving, he somehow managed to get to the points, a secured tenth place for now, and he didn’t seem to slow down. Every overtake made the whole garage cheer loudly, much to the disappointment of the other teams but they didn’t care. _For once, they were the best._

And suddenly, as Leclerc tried for the third time to overtake the six-time champion, the latter’s back right tyre exploded, making him deviate immediately from his trajectory and slam in the young Monegasque’s Ferrari. The two ended up in the grass, and with a flat tyre there was no way the usual winner could continue. Leclerc managed to get out and enter the pit lane, but the time lost would be nearly impossible to get back.

And all of this, to the immense pleasure of most of the other teams who gained two places for free for their drivers.

“After that, Max was targeting a podium. And we weren’t crazy enough to stop him!”

A little laugh escaped from the journalist in front of him. They both knew how it ended, and he loves the very idea of people remembering that particular race, that particular moment.

Of course he loved it, he loved that Verstappen didn’t make any mistake and climbed up the ranks like he was flying, he loved that Albon overtook the McLaren driver with ease and finally got a chance for his first podium. _Well deserved._

Next laps were interrupted by a few aquaplaning problems and technical issues (thanks Hamilton for leaving half of his front wing in the middle of the track), and two other safety cars that served Max well as he was ready to overtake his teammate for P3.

“He was faster than Albon, so we let him through.”

When the outraged voice of the Thai driver came to his ears at that moment, he switched on his seat uncomfortably. He had to assure him he still got a chance, Vettel and Bottas in first and second place desperately fighting for the win with tired tyres. With his pace and a little bit of luck, maybe he could get them.

* * *

“In front of you, Vettel P1, then Bottas and Verstappen.”

He was fuming. The race was going perfectly for him, he even got to the podium places! How Max managed to get from the pit lane to the third place was a mystery, but he wasn’t able to be amazed by that now. _Not when it could cost him a place on the top._

He stopped himself from complaining on the radio about the unfairness of the situation, not wanting to be called out by thousands of angry people like Charles last year. But still.

The car felt too small for him, and he shrugged his shoulders, trying to get rid of the uneasiness growing on him. _Not fair. Not fair. Not fair!_

He was not furious towards Max, how could he? Man was so fast today, it would be stupid to force him to slow down when he was the best choice for a shot at the first place. Nor was he enraged at the strategists, he understood their position. His anger was directed at the whole _stupid_ situation.

Taking a quick but deep breath, he tried to focus again on his race. P4 was not that bad, and his day would come later. Now, he had to show everyone that he was not one to give up.

“Five laps to go.”

Rain was falling hard. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he squinted his eyes, concentration in place in his mind as he took the next turn, following the traces left in the water by the drivers before him. Giving a quick look at the screen on his wheel, he saw the time separating him from a too much dreamed third place slowly decreasing. _Maybe…?_

“Four laps to go.”

Everything went so fast, and his heart was racing at the same pace in his chest. He could feel the eyes on him, everyone wondering if he could really do it. If he could beat a Ferrari and a Mercedes. _He didn’t believe it._ But his tyres were less used, he was quick, not losing time fighting another driver.

On the radio, he was informed of Ricciardo’s overtake on Sainz behind him, but no worries as there was more than ten seconds separating them. A few heartbeats later, he heard “Verstappen P1”, and as he pushed aside the need to understand _HOW?!_, he made up his mind. If his teammate could do something like this, the least he could do was to push a little more and show that he was as good too. _So there was no way he would finish this race without at least scaring the two drivers in front of him a little._

He pursed his lips, a new determination running in his veins.

“Three laps to go, go get them.”

Alex thought of all the advices his Dutch friend gave him on the last day. How he had to trust the car and have ridiculously fast reflexes if he wanted to be quicker in the rain. How he could try and take new lines on the track. At that point, he had everything to lose, _but he was ready to take the risk._

He could see the red and silver cars getting closer to him. _No, he was the one getting closer._ He would do it.

“Two laps to go.”

Less than four seconds separated him from a dream. But with a quick calculation, he understood that he would need one or two more laps to do it.

“Fuck!”

Oooooops, that escaped his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Sorry guys.”

He swore he heard them chuckle. He shook his head one time, he had to focus.

He would not give up, he promised. In his head, only four words, running on loop. _I want the podium._

Never in his life had he felt so competitive, so needing of something.

As if the universe finally heard him, after turn 3 he saw right in front of him Bottas slide on the amount of water on the track, deviating on the side and forcing Vettel to do the same. _Bad luck._

Alex saw it, heard it, felt it in his whole body. Time stopped for a second, and he stopped breathing. There and then, he took his chance. Time and rain and pressure crashed down on the floor as he overtook the two cars still struggling to get back on the track. The gap between him and the two older drivers grew, and by the time they got back on the track, he knew they would never be able to get back to him. Eyes wide, heart pounding strongly, Alex bit his lip, shocked by what just happened.

“Last lap Alex, you can do it!”

First turn._ Be careful, don’t go wide._

Straight line. _Max disappeared from his sight on the other side._

Turn 3 to 6. _Like a loop, focus and don’t slide._

Straight line then the last two turns. _He could picture his mother, sat somewhere in the paddock, eyes filled with less and less worry, with more and more pride._

Last line. _And finally, the chequered flag._

There was a heavy silence in his helmet for what felt like several seconds, before he heard a long-waited message.

“P2 Alex, P2! That was amazing! You’re on the podium!”

Alex was overwhelmed by excitement, as noises came back to him quickly, and he didn’t stop himself from screaming in his radio.

“YEEEEEEEEEES!”

He laughed, waved around him, not caring about the weird sounds escaping his mouth as he let out his joy on the radio, only interrupted once by his team principal:

“That was an amazing race Alex, congratulations for this podium, you deserve it.”

_Oh yes he did!_

* * *

“I can still feel my ears ringing from that moment, he screamed so loud in the radio we got scared something happened to him!”

Christian’s shoulders were shaking from his laugh, memory not so fresh but still vivid in his mind.

He felt proud. Proud of Max’ recovery on the track, from the pit lane to P1, _nearly impossible, amazing._ Proud of Alex’ smooth, precise and constant driving the whole time,_ the boy showing everyone he had his place in Red Bull._ And mostly, proud of getting his team to step on not one but two steps of the podium.

Everyone in the garage had cheered loudly, clapping hands and hugging each other, happiness shining from them. Next to them, the Mercedes garage was understandably silent, Toto furiously heading back inside. The red team on the end didn’t look any better, except for the few mechanics bumping into each other, calmly cheering for saving the third place on the podium.

Christian went to his team, shaking hands, taking them by the shoulders, congratulating everyone on his way, before exiting and trying to catch the sight of _his two winners_ outside.

“They were ecstatic, and they had all the right to be. They showed everyone out there what we were capable of, how good we could be. Winning a race is already a lot, it’s even better when it’s at home on the Red Bull Ring. But a 1-2? After missing one pilot in qualifications? Unbelievable. All the best drivers struggled under the rain, but Alex and Max, they were clearly at home there. They drove an amazing race, both of them, and the team did a great job.”

He felt warmer now. He was really enjoying this question, he could hear it in his voice, sense the smile on his face, feel the now comfortable chair underneath him.

“I’m glad they shared the podium together, both of them deserved it after this crazy weekend.”

And he knew they enjoyed every second of it.

* * *

“Sebastian Vettel!”

Rain was still falling down, the crowd cheered loudly, and Max could only imagine the people down there jumping and pushing each other as Sebastian made his way outside to the podium.

Alex, next to him, couldn’t stay in place. His hands were moving frenetically, his knees going back and forth, and his smile went so high on his face that he was sure it hurt. He didn’t have the time to say anything when the name of his teammate was announced in the speakers, making the concerned jump in excitement and run outside, joining the Ferrari driver under the rain.

Max crossed his arms, and he tried to put aside his exhausted state to embrace the joy and relief. He breathed slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. The migraine from the last day was coming back, but it was his moment, he was the best today. _Eh, at least he could give himself a good reason to get a headache._

The thought of the huge bottle of champagne made him smirk.

“…first on the podium, Max Verstappen!”

Max stepped outside, not caring one second for the rain and the cold._ Oh, how he enjoyed this moment._

Crowd cheering, orange smoke everywhere, and the entirety of the Red Bull team on the front, clapping and screaming. He felt so proud of himself as he jumped on the first step, exchanging a smile with Seb next to him. The latter leaned on his direction, talking loud enough for him and Alex to hear:

“Good job guys.”

Alex answered with a high-pitched “Thank you!”, making the other two smile even more, as his strategist made his way next to them.

Max run his fingers through his hair a little, trying to get them out of his face where they stuck uncomfortably with sweat and rain. Folding his hands behind his back, he stood still as the Dutch anthem started playing, followed by the Austrian one. He hummed the rhythm the whole time, joined by Alex on the second one, and their smiles grew up at each second.

Time flew as they received their cup, Alex eyeing it lovingly and Seba. In the end, Sebastian gave a knowing look to Max when he leaned front to take his champagne bottle. A tilt of his head in the direction of the boy on their left, and the Dutch driver’s smile switched to an evil smirk.

The two of them innocently took a sip from their bottle, savouring the taste on their tongue, eyeing Alex who glared at them, not fully aware of what was waiting him.

In one movement, Max turned around and sprayed champagne on his friend, making him quirk in the process before he took his own bottle and did the same with the two others. A little fight between them started and they laughed all the way, enjoying the moment.

Alex finally gave up and took a big sip of the adored drink. The Dutchman got closer to him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“First podium, let’s inaugurate!”

Max flipped the bottle upside down and lifted his arms, pouring the drink on his friend’s head. As the taller boy took out his new cap and a lopsided grin grew even more on his lips, Sebastian and his strategist joined them, giving him a literal champagne shower.

Alex spread his arms wide, head down, and his laugh was communicated to the others around him.

_This was their day._

* * *

“This is what I will remember from the season, without a doubt.”

Christian looked down, nostalgic for this weekend. _Minus Saturday morning of course._

Minus the Sunday evening too. He took the whole team to a bar to celebrate, and the two Red Bull drivers were so wasted after the party that Christian had to drive them back to the hotel, at a five minutes walk from them. Alex was singing on the top of his lungs during the small walk between the car and the entrance while Max couldn’t walk straight at all and collided on every column in the parking, even if his team manager was holding on his arm. _Sometimes with these two, he felt like a father taking care of his two stupid kids._

No, he wouldn’t mention it in front of the camera.

The light illuminating him made his eyes squint a little, the coldness of the room coming back on him and he shivered a little again.

“So…”

He lifted his eyes to the journalist, waiting for the next question.

“Let’s now talk a little about Monza.”

He gulped. Hard.

He thought of the crash with the Racing Point car, of the motor failure, of Alex’ flu that spread to everyone in the garage, at Max and his broken elbow and the medicines that surprised them by making him high during a meeting…

Christian rolled his eyes, then sighed, then pinched his nose, eyes closed.

“No…”

**Author's Note:**

> No Max Verstappen were hurt in the writing of this fic, promise.  
Don't hesitate to leave a comment, this is my first work in a long time, first time in english and first time in this fandom ! (so many firsts today)  
Thank you for reading !  
(If you want to follow me on Tumblr, go to @goldenmouton, I mostly reblog general stuff, cartoons, funny posts and I might comment during the F1 races)


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